


I Like You Better Than I Like Him

by hag



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bisexual Fiona Gallagher, F/F, thank goodness!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:56:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3644316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hag/pseuds/hag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the times Fiona had thought about coming to terms with her sexuality, good thing it was now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Of all of the times that Fiona had spent with Gus, Mike, or even Jimmy it would appear that dissatisfaction was a big part of every relationship that she had ever had. Every man she had ever known had left her, betrayed her, disappointed her, or took advantage of her. Frank did nothing but take and take, Jimmy’s whole life was a lie, and Gus left her, his newly wedded bride, alone to go bang women on tour. And for what? Gus had kissed her and told her to water his plants, to leave her for months to come. He could leave with no trace of her but the occasional memory of her and a legal marriage certificate that would probably only last so long, but she was still stuck with his last name: Pfender. What a horribly ugly last name that was once funny in a cute way, an inside joke that she had decided to tack onto her own name. But now Fiona signs her name again as Gallagher; no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to leave that name behind, let alone to take Pfender in its place.  
  
Gus didn’t really matter to her anymore, or at least not like he did only a couple of weeks ago when she stupidly put on that zebra print dress and went down to the courthouse. What an absolute idiot she was to believe that she could want to be married. Fiona remembered years ago when Jimmy ran after that guy who had taken her purse in that bar. He was still Steve then, and she had been so reluctant as to even let him take her on a date. And to think! Gus and she had never been on a real date with dinner and food and nice shoes; they had only fucked and then gotten married. He played his guitar sometimes, which was great and all, but it was easy to disassociate Gus from the guitar playing, easy to just think of it as listening to the car radio or a CD.  
  
Fiona laughed at herself, sitting in her car after her work day, another day of Patsy’s Pies. Angela, who never ate all of her pie but tipped gratuitously, was always a highlight of Fiona’s day when she showed her face at the diner. She knew that Angela liked her, like liked her liked her. Angela had never done Fiona any wrong; she in fact did Fiona a great favor with $50 tips. But Angela didn’t come to buy a piece of pie that she wouldn’t eat today, and for all Fiona knew, Angela was gone from her life for good. Fiona thought about that time her coworkers kept telling her that Angela wanted some “Fiona pie.” She laughed to herself at that.  
The soft giggling turned into existential dread; it was all too much. From marriage, to Gus leaving her to tour, to Ian, and to Carl, Fiona had too much on her plate right now, like always. But now it’s different. Before, she could put on a nice dress and forget about everything in a bar with V at 2 A.M. But now, even V was so different too; nothing was the same anymore.  
  
She thought back to that time that Angela asked her to dinner, and she declined, remembering the messy ends of her messier relationship with Jimmy. Right now, Fiona wished that she hadn’t declined that date. That was before she was married, before she even knew Gus’s name. She wondered how her life would be now if she had gone out to dinner with Angela, if she’d be happier now, if she’d be happily sitting in Angela’s home instead of crying in her car in the late afternoon as she thought about the increasingly poor decisions that she’d made since the beginning of the summer.  
  
Fiona smacked her palm onto the steering wheel in frustration and then slouched back in her seat, running her hands through her hair that had come loose from her ponytail. There was part of Fiona that probably really liked Angela back that she couldn’t come to terms with, not now anyway. Her sexuality was so far repressed at this point that it was mainly meaningless now. It had been a long time since she had felt something for another woman. She remembered that girl in high school, the first time she met V, and Jasmine. Ugh, Jasmine. The memory of her made Fiona hurt. There were times went she would feel blows of guilt in her gut when she remembered kicking Jasmine out. There were times when Fiona had wished that she kept kissing Jasmine on that boat, and times that she wished that she had taken up Jasmine’s offer to treat Fiona like a queen. But that was meaningless now, Jasmine wasn’t relevant anymore. She was just some lady that Fiona had met at a PTA meeting and a good acquaintance, not a woman that Fiona sort of had a crush on years ago.  
  
Fiona wanted to bang on the car horn, cry, scream, yell at every man who had ever wronged her, and make amends with all of the women that she had ever wronged.  
  
Her mind went back to Angela and that thought in the very back of her mind when she told her goodbye before Angela drove away for the last time. She thought of how maybe, in the very back of her mind, cowering from the very heterosexual Fiona Gallagher that existed upfront, she had thought of getting in Angela’s car with her, professing love, and then eloping. Except that wouldn't have worked because she had kids to worry about, court hearings to attend, and not to mention that she’s already married to a backstabbing, good-for-nothing, pseudo-deep musician. Fiona wondered if he had a girl in his hotel room as she sat in right here in her car at this very moment.  
  
Fiona pressed the base of her palms into her forehead, furious at herself and at Gus, and maybe she was furious at Angela too for not trying harder to convince Fiona to go out with her.  
  
But it was no time for this teen angst love-triangle bullshit; Fiona hadn’t stopped by Gus’s apartment to water his plants yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Fiona was sitting at one of the tables in Patsy’s Pies, counting tips out on the table: stack of ones, stack of fives, pile of loose change. She was the last person left in the diner and it was close to 10 o’clock; she promised Sean that she’d lock up, because she just needed to not be home right now. While leafing through the pile of ones and pushing the change into smaller piles based on coin type, there was a knock on the glass of the front door. Fiona looked up. It was raining outside, and the lights hanging over the table cast a glare on the windows, but Fiona could tell that it was a woman. Fiona hesitated to move, but then the woman knocked again. “Fiona! It’s me!” Fiona recognized Angela’s voice, and her heart skipped a beat remembering her retrospection in the car last week.

She got up from her seat and walked up to the door. She unlocked it and let Angela and a subsequent rain puddle into the diner. “Sorry about the water; I just had to run a block in the rain. It’s disgusting out there.” Fiona offered to take Angela’s coat, which she accepted.

“Can I help ya with anything, Angela?” Fiona asked as she put Angela’s jacket on the back of one of the booths. Angela was dressed very nicely as per the usual, in a pair of nice heels and a blouse and skirt. Fiona was just wearing jean shorts and her work t-shirt. She felt unworthy of being alone in the presence of the dazzlingly well dressed, well-groomed Angela, whose skin was glinting with rain droplets. This is a bit ridiculous.

“Uh, I was having some car troubles,” she replied, shaking beads of rain of her hair as she said it, “just a couple of blocks down. This was the closest place where I thought I could get some help.” Fiona decided to ignore the fact that Angela had a cell phone, and that there must have been like 2 dozen places that were maybe still open that Angela could have stopped at instead of Patsy’s Pies, which closed an hour ago.

Unsure of what to say next, Fiona just asked, “Well, uh, I’m here alone. Do you wanna use the phone? Or I could get you a cup of coffee.” She walked behind the counter as Angela took a seat on one of the stools. Angela smiled that way that she always does. “Yeah I’ll have some of that coffee. I just wanted to get out of the rain to make this call,” she responded coolly.

Fiona pulled out the pot of coffee that she had brewed earlier and poured a cup for Angela. Angela gingerly pulled the cup towards herself and picked it up with both hands. Fiona moved around the counter to take a seat at the counter next to her. Angela pulled up the cup to her mouth, but just as it touched her lips she stopped and set the cup back down, letting out a small laugh. She looked at Fiona. “I don’t want to lie to you, Fiona: I’m not actually having problems with my car.” Fiona shifted in her seat. “I, uh,” Angela went on, “I just wanted to see you.”

Angela had completely removed her hands from the coffee mug now and they were placed neatly in her lap and the heels of her shoes were hooked onto the stool. There was a moment of silence before Fiona stammered, “Oh I uh…” Angela interrupted, “I felt like we had such a messy goodbye that I didn’t feel like our relationship was done.”

“Angela I…” Fiona tried to think that the word “relationship” was used ambiguously.

Angela now picked up her coffee cup and took a long sip, leaving remnants of her lipstick on the white cup. She opened her purse and pulled out a compact mirror and tube of lipstick and quickly touched it up in the mirror. Fiona watched with her mouth open from her midsentence pause as Angela kissed a napkin in order to rid any excess product. She gracefully set the napkin down and turned to Fiona. “Would it be too brash of me to invite you to dinner again?” Angela asked Fiona.

Fiona didn’t know what to say, she only made a little noise that was maybe the beginning of a word. Angela shook her head, “Don’t say no. Here.” Angela took the napkin that she had used to wipe away excess lipstick and took a pen out of her bag. On the napkin, she wrote her phone number.

“I’ll see you soon, Fiona. Call me. We can go out sometime this weekend.” Fiona couldn’t believe it; she had barely even said a full sentence and she had already gotten Angela’s number.

Angela slid off of the stool and grabbed her jacket off of the back of the booth. While pulling on the jacket, she turned to Fiona, “Hope to hear from you.” Angela winked and left. Fiona actively dismissed any thoughts of Gus from her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Friday evening, and Fiona’s cell phone buzzed in her pocket as she got into her car after work. She sat down and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. She had received one text from Angela.

So far, their conversation only had three texts in it. One was from Fiona to Angela from last night confirming that this was her number, a reply, and then a new text from Angela: 

_> Hey, how about tonight for dinner?_

Fiona paused for a minute before responding:

 _ >Yeah i think that will work_  
_> how about I pick you up at 7? We can go somewhere nice_  
_> yeah that’s good for me_

Fiona shut off her phone and put it back into her pocket. She thought briefly on whether or not this mattered in the grand scheme of her marriage to Gus. Decidedly not, since Gus had probably fucked at least two women since he last texted her on Wednesday. Not to mention, he was barely returning her texts or calls, so what would it matter if she went out to eat with Angela? Her enjoying herself on a nice dinner with another woman doesn’t necessarily mean anything as far as Gus was concerned. If it did end up mattering, what Gus was doing didn’t outweigh a dinner date. Oh shit, was this a date? I mean, to Angela, absolutely. But to Fiona? Well, she wasn’t sure. It felt weird to call it a date, but it fundamentally was. Dinner, food, nice shoes.  


When Fiona got home, to her surprise, she had the house to herself. She considered briefly trying to figure out where everyone was, but it was probably best that there wasn’t anyone else here. Fiona texted Debbie to let her know that she was going out, but to expect her home later tonight and to hold down the fort for her.  


Fiona got ready and put on the black dress that she realized only after she was fully clothed was the one she wore to the bar where she first pretended to be Gus’s girlfriend. And then, she really was his girlfriend. Or was she ever his girlfriend? It seemed the transition from acquaintance to spouse was too quick for her to ever be his “girlfriend,” but technically, Fiona guesses that she was for a brief week.

Just after 7:00, Angela was there to pick Fiona up. Angela charmingly led Fiona to her car, and god damn did she look nice: black dress, a necklace, and a pair of nice black heels. 

Angela held open the car door for Fiona, and she got in. When Angela got in the car too, she turned to Fiona, “So, I was thinking of trying this new restaurant that I’ve heard good things about,” 

“Works for me, I’m not really an expert on the fancy places around here.”

“Oh, uh well it’s not too extravagant I don’t think. But we could probably still get a good bottle of wine, maybe dance a little.” Angela responded calmly with a smile. _Oh God_ , Fiona thought, _This was a fucking date and with wine? And dancing? And this wouldn’t be box wine either. This would be good wine. ___

The entire car ride there was just small talk to keep it from being silent. Fiona didn’t say much, it was mainly just Angela talking: “Do you like movies?” “I don’t really have much time to watch ‘em anymore.  
“What about music?” “Um, well just whatever’s on the radio when I drive home.” “How long have you been working at the diner?” “A few months.” But then Fiona asked, “Last night, how did you know that I would be at Patsy’s? I mean, the diner does close at 9, and it was almost 10.” Angela laughed, “I didn’t know. I just guessed.”

“That true?” Fiona laughed.

“Um, yes. I was nearby, about 20 minutes away –“

“Nearby isn’t 20 minutes away…”

“Ok, well I was thinking about you, and I was still in town and I thought I would try my luck. I thought that if I was really lucky, you’d still be there. I actually don’t have any other way to contact you except through Patsy’s Pies.”

Fiona ran her hands through her hair and laughed, “Well I guess you got pretty lucky then.”

Angela gave Fiona a smile before they both got quiet again, except this time it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was ok. Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence with bullshit, they were both just comfortable, and Fiona was smiling like an idiot. She looked out the window to try to keep Angela from seeing how giddy she suddenly felt, but she knew that Angela was still glancing over at her periodically.

They had to park two blocks away from the restaurant because of Friday night traffic. It was a half Italian restaurant, half music venue.  
Inside, they were seated at a round table near an area where couples were dancing to jazz music that was being performed by a live band. Fiona didn’t know anything about jazz, but it was nice. The lighting was dim, and each table had two or three tea lights on it; this was so corny, Fiona would hardly believe it. It was genuinely nice of Angela, but unbelievably romcom-esque in Fiona’s opinion. Angela was looking at the wine menu that they had been provided with. “So, what kind of wine do you prefer, Fiona?” she asked, peering up at Fiona, who only shrugged in response, “I mean, I don’t know much about wine. If I’m honest, I can’t remember the last time I had wine that wasn’t out of a box.” Angela laughed under her breath and set down the wine menu to focus all of her attention on Fiona. “Well, you’re in luck, miss Fiona, because I do know a thing or two about fine wine.”

 _Of course_ , Fiona thought, _not only was Angela a world-class partner in crime to Jimmy, but she was also a wine connoisseur._

When their waiter came back to take their drink orders, Angela ordered one of the most expensive bottles of red wine on the list. “Hey, Angela, you really don’t have to spend that much on drinks. Like I said, I probably couldn’t even tell the difference between—“ Fiona sputtered. Angela interjected, “No, Fiona, it’s no problem, really,” and she winked.

“Say,” Angela started nonchalantly, “why don’t we dance a little while we wait on that wine.” Fiona laughed, “I mean sure…” Angela smiled in response and got up from the table, holding out her hand to guide Fiona to the dancefloor. 

They danced slowly, but not touching to the jazz for a couple of minutes before Fiona saw Angela glance over to see the waiter set their wine down on the table. Then, Angela put her arm around Fiona’s waist and pulled her in closely. Fiona froze at the sudden grasp, but then Angela whispered in her ear, “Watch this, follow my lead.” Then, Angela released Fiona’s waist and walked elegantly over to the waiter, Fiona followed suit. 

Angela tapped the waiter on the shoulder just as he was turning to leave their table, “Excuse me sir, but we would both like to order the special. And, if you would, just leave it on the table when you bring it out. We’re going to dance a bit before we eat.” The waiter scribbled the order on his notepad and left.

Angela turned back to Fiona and pointed her back towards the dancefloor, and grabbed the bottle of wine off the table in one fluid movement. A voice,that must have been a waiter’s, called after them, “Ma’am! Uh, ma’am! You can’t take that onto the dancefloor!” But Angela just pushed Fiona moving a bit quicker now, breaking into a jog through the tables and pushing through the crowd on the dancefloor. “Angela!” Fiona exclaimed just loud enough for her to hear, “What are you doing??!” Angela, who was now leading the way to the very back of the restaurant, smirked and replied, “You ever dined and dashed before?” Fiona gasped, but smiled at Angela’s daring move, remembering that she was probably a con artist who worked with Jimmy, the biggest con Fiona had ever known.

There were several waiters pushing their way after them, as they must have picked up on what was going on, but Angela located a backdoor that led to a little alley. They both ran as fast as they could in heels for about a block in the direction of the car, turning a corner, and stopped, breathless, when they thought they had lost their pursuers. They both leaned against the window of an empty convenience store on an almost disserted street. Angela was laughing aloud, still holding the bottle of wine, as Fiona turned to her and started laughing too.

“Holy _shit_!” Fiona gasped, “Of all of the things I was expecting out of this date, stealing a bottle of wine wasn’t really on the list…” Angela raised her eyebrows, “So this is a date?” Fiona blushed, still laughing, and turned away from Angela. 

Fiona shifted closer to her and looked Angela in the eyes, “I dunno, is it?” she said cheekily. Angela laughed, “Come here.” And hooked her hand around the back of Fiona’s neck and kissed her gently. It was soft and only lasted a few seconds before Angela broke it off. “Oh God,” she started, “I’m sorry Fiona, I feel like I should have warned you about –“ “About that kiss?” Fiona interjected, filled with adrenaline, “Because I didn’t mind that at all.” Angela laughed, “No, I meant the flee we made from the restaurant… But I’m glad that you weren’t turned off by that kiss.” 

Fiona kept laughing, so filled with happiness, feeling like what just happened was a long time coming. And it wasn’t that Fiona accepted Angela’s invitation with the anticipation of it turning into her first romantic experience with another woman since Jasmine, but it definitely felt like accepting this invite was more than just a girls’ night out. Angela knew that from the start, but it was all just falling together for Fiona. They both just looked at each other again in silence on the dark sidewalk lit only by the neon lights in the liquor store across the street, and for the second time that night, they basked in the pleasure of non-awkward silence.

Angela finally broke the quiet, “Um, we still have this very expensive bottle of wine, and I do have a very nice hotel room downtown if you want to maybe share it. This isn’t an invitation to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Fiona. If all you want to do is chat and drink this wine, then that’s all I want to do too. I mean – oh God… You’re married aren’t you Fiona? Shit…” Angela laughed at herself before Fiona could stop her, “No, look, Angela… my husband, Gus, is off on tour with his band. For all we know, he’s having sex with another woman right now. Beside…” Fiona paused for a moment, remembering what Angela had said to her about working with Jimmy, “I like you better than I like him.”


	4. Chapter 4

Fiona, for a brief moment, had doubts as to whether or not she should go with Angela to her hotel, and whether or not she would regret it. Lately, it would seem that fidelity was not exactly on the table for her marriage though, and if she were to begin some romantic escapade with someone other than Gus, Angela was a strong contender. Fiona’s wanting to be with another woman had always been there, but it wasn’t until recently, perhaps this very evening, that any real hope of meeting that need had been strongly considered. And as Fiona leaned against that window next to Angela, as sirens wailed somewhere in the distance, and as sounds of the Chicago night filled the air, she felt at peace, and Angela had won Fiona over with hardly even trying. One date, that was hardly even a date but much more a great deal of criminal showmanship, and Angela had won over Fiona’s willpower.

\---

Angela was staying in a very fancy hotel, and it reminded Fiona of that time Jimmy had brought her to stay in an extravagant hotel room years ago for a night. That whole ordeal was a mess, and that was back when Fiona felt a much stronger tie to parenting all of the other Gallaghers than she did now. It’s kind of incredible how back then, Fiona would panic just at the thought of leaving the kids for the whole night, but now she trusted them to be alone for days at a time. This shift could probably be attributed in part to the kids getting older and also in part to Fiona’s increasing amount of recklessness in recent years.

But forget all of that mess, because hot damn was this a nice hotel. The lobby was luxurious, elegant, romantic, and there were chandeliers and extravagant decorations. Angela’s room was also very nice, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city, and stylish décor complete with a huge, fluffy bed that had probably been freshly made by housekeeping. 

Angela led Fiona in and took a seat on the bed. “Jesus,” Fiona started, “this is really incredible. It must cost ya a fortune to be staying here.” Angela laughed, “Yeah well I have some connections.” Fiona took a seat on a nearby chair and replied, “Well I guess I believe you. You’re just really so elegant and everything that it’s easy to forget that you worked alongside a sleeze like Jimmy…” 

Angela smirked and put the bottle of wine that she had carried in on a side table. “And it’s hard to believe you ever dated a sleeze like Jimmy, Fiona. You know he’s said a lot of things about you. I guess not an incredible amount, but enough that I know quite a few things about you. And then of course seeing you every day at the diner really helped me put together some of the pieces of the puzzle.” Fiona raised her eyebrows and coolly asked, “Am I a puzzle?” Angela just laughed in response and picked up the bottle of wine again, waving it a bit in her hand before walking over to a table to retrieve some glasses. 

“How often do you pull off little stunts like tonight’s back at the restaurant?” Fiona asked somewhat sheepishly as Angela poured two glasses of probably what would be one of the finest bottles of wine that Fiona had ever tasted. Angela, who was now walking over with a glass in each hand, replied, “Um, that was more the kind of thing I did when I was a teenager. Of course, back then I was just going to nice restaurants with girls I was trying to impress and then we’d run out a back door, and I couldn’t steal wine from a restaurant because they would obviously have to card me and I wasn’t good enough back then for fake ID. Tonight was like nothing. When you do something enough times, the thrill of it starts to go away. But tonight… tonight it was nice because I was with you.” 

It was so easy to forget how Angela was probably a skilled con artist: maybe she robbed banks, stole cars, stole identities. It was hard to guess because Angela looked like a stand-up citizen and a poster child for the exact kind of rich straight women that stay in hotels like this one. It was easy to see Angela as someone who came from a rich family, and was courting an even richer young white man whose only passions were capitalism and golf. That sounds so sad. But it was Angela’s smile, her smirk, and her gait that gave it all away to the keen eye (or maybe just to someone who knew her true occupation). 

Fiona carefully observed how Angela held her wine glass: it was almost like she was caressing it, holding the stem in between her middle and ring fingers and cupping the round of the glass with her long fingers. It was elegant and a sort of composure that gave a real air of self-named power; Angela was in control of not just herself, but also those around her. It made Fiona feel safe, like she wanted to be held by Angela, caressed. Fiona made a move that was probably a bit bolder than what she really wanted to do, and moved up to sit next to Angela on the bed, the (now empty) glass of wine providing just enough social lubricant for Fiona to be a bit more daring than she had anticipated.

Angela offered to get Fiona another glass, but she declined, reaching for Angela’s face. And when Fiona’s hands had reached around to grab Angela’s head, feeling her soft hair, she pulled her in and kissed her. This time though, they didn’t break it off abruptly and Angela kissed Fiona back until Angela stopped to set her still half-full glass of wine on a nearby table. When she turned back, she leaned into Fiona, wrapped her one arm around Fiona’s waist and cupped Fiona’s cheek with her free hand, just like she had done to the wine glass. “You’re so beautiful, Fiona. I’m sure you already know that, but I wanted to let you know that I knew it too.”

Fiona laughed, leaning her face into Angela’s shoulder. “I think I’ve been waiting for a really long time to hear another woman say that to me.” There was a moment before she returned to Angela’s lips in which Fiona had realized what she just said, realizing that she had said what she had thought for a long time but never really wanted to admit.

As they kissed, it became heavier and more heated and Angela had slipped a hand up Fiona’s dress to rest it on her bare thigh and was kissing her jawline and neck, but Fiona had hardly moved her hands from Angela’s hair; Fiona was, for the first time in a long time, unconfident in her sexual maneuvers. It was one thing to be with a man, they were all easy. But women were different, in that Fiona felt a duty to always respect them, sexually or otherwise, in ways she didn’t feel were sensitive when it came to sexual encounters with men. 

There was a moment when Angela stopped kissing Fiona and asked her, “Fiona, do you want to go further or are you not comfortable with that yet?” Fiona paused for a moment, thinking. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to fuck Angela, because right now, with Angela’s fingers against the lace of her underwear, she really did. But Fiona was feeling self-conscious; not only was Fiona unexperienced in sex with other women, but she was also unsure of herself right now in ways that she hadn’t felt unsure of in a really long while. “It’s ok,” Angela continued, “because if you are comfortable, I can guide you through the whole thing.”

Fiona gave in, despite her uncertainty on how well she could perform, and nodded quickly to let Angela know that it was ok. And with that, in one fluid motion, Angela pushed Fiona down onto the bed and began to pull off Fiona’s dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been a while since i updated this; I wasn't sure where i wanted this to go so I kind of just put this out.  
> I also haven't watched the season 5 finale yet, but I've heard some terrible things about it and am honestly NOT looking forward to watching that. But I guess we'll see.


End file.
